


A Night in Berlin

by Starfire302



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Improper Use of Spider-Man suit, Mild Spider-Man: Far From Home Spoilers, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn Watching, Suit Kink, Translated version, Underage Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 13:36:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19702450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starfire302/pseuds/Starfire302
Summary: In the flower field of the Netherlands, Happy mentioned something about Peter that no one else knew.





	A Night in Berlin

**Author's Note:**

> Based on MCU Spider-Man movies. Contains spoiler of one scene (the reason I wrote this) in Far From Home!
> 
> This is a translated version of https://archiveofourown.org/works/19481413. TBH I don't know if this could work though.  
> Aaaand It's 2:30 am, please forgive my errors.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

He felt very filthy and at the same time, very contented. Black city breathing his blue lust, it was his last night in Berlin.

The first thought that popped into his head after he returned from the ruined airport, ate dinner, showered, recorded his journal video, packed his baggage and finally lay down in bed, was that this was **somewhere else**.

He had never been abroad before, had never even taken a plane, had never been in an expensive hotel (Uncle Ben and Aunt May always preferred cozy, old-fashioned ones when they took him on a trip). He had never seen so many German-speakers (the tough, rushing tones made him cringe a little). He passed by Berlin’s landmarks without recognizing them. At the first night here, he once stared at the German word on an appliance as if he was an extra letter that couldn't squeeze into it.

He wasn’t related to this place at all.

He knew he was a New York boy. He knew the city, the city knew him. But now it was completely different. It was unreal, as if his life had been cut out and pasted somewhere else. He was a small person, standing in this small part of life, terrified but free. Joining the superhero civil war might not be something small for a rookie like him who had only three-month superpower experience, but at this moment, it was a night when Aunt May wasn't around, nor the sporadic bustle of Queens. There were Matryoshka-doll-like rooms, his little suitcase and a big, soft bed. This was Peter Parker's night and his only.

And the most impressive and indelible knowledge of high-end hotels he held was that they had high-quality adult films. He couldn’t help but pricked his ears when Flash was boasting among the boys.

If you think Peter Parker is that kind of boy who would stop himself from doing so because of the shame of watching porn and the guilt of putting the bill on someone else, you're wrong.

He turned on the TV.

However, even before he entered the adult film category, he already began to feel nervous. Happy said they had thin walls here, so he got himself a pair of headphones, went to the bathroom passingly and closed the door on his way out. He didn’t draw the curtains because he liked the colour of the night sky over Berlin. Besides, if someone was watching him, his Peter Tingle would alarm him (...right?). When he finally got back to bed, he had a thin layer of sweat. He turned to the TV, picked up the remote on the pillow, reached out his hand in front of him, and slowly pressed the confirm button.

He didn't think about what to watch, because he had no idea what they had inside this fancy panel on the wall. He did have a few preferences, but just by scanning the page, he already began to form an erection from the lewd descriptions. If he didn’t get down to business soon, he had no doubt that the previews of these videos only could get him done. He picked a random one on the second page (though, a few months later in retrospect, he found that the outline of the male actor in the film resembled someone he knew).

He had never paid for porns before, for fear of being discovered by Aunt May. The images on the screen were indeed different from what he usually saw: clear, abundant and explicit. All the voices were so close to him. Soon he felt hot and dry, and the crotch of his pajama pants was slightly damp. It was merely the beginning of the film, he d id n’t want to finish too fast (he had little faith in his durability), so he deliberately restrained himself from touching it. He adjusted his position uncomfortably and wheezed a little.

Before long, he began unconsciously moving his legs and letting the cloth rub against his warm cock. He closed his eyes, tilted his head, his hands clenched into fists.

"Oh no...", suddenly he opened his eyes and looked at his crotch as if he accidentally spilled drink on somebody, muttering in a puppy-like voice, "why am I torturing myself like this..."

His sneaked one hand under the upper edge of his pants and looked back at the screen, where things were getting more and more feverish. He massaged his cock the way he liked for a while and soon felt like he was about to come. It was then that he realized all the time he was focusing on the girl on the screen, not wanting to fuck her, but imagining how she felt, craving for the sensation to be manhandled carelessly, to be penetrated fast and hard, controlled helplessly and used like but a toy. 

_Maybe I should have seen a gay porn_ , he thought, and was immediately surprised because he didn't think he'd find anything new at this point. Maybe he could try it sometime later, but not tonight. He couldn’t  buy another adult film. It'd be too obvious.

He drew his attention back to the dramatic sights and noises. He was so close, but after a few minutes it was still not enough for him to come. Peter let out a small whimper. His eyes went red. Why did he cry so easily? He looked around the room in foggy vision and saw the new suit not far away, which had been put off but not yet been put into the box. He loved this suit so much, it made Spider-Man look gorgeous. Heroic. It was associated with superhero, Stark technology, responsibility, goodness, and so on. The flat white eyes seemed to gaze into the void, into something noble, serious, distant. It's Peter's treasure, Peter's secret.

And now Peter wanted to fucking defile it.

He choked up at the thought, a gush of pleasure ran through him, making his cock throb. _I wasn't a good boy,_ he thought. _I never was. I wanted to make myself... oh God... I wanted to make myself dirty._

He let go of his cock, quickly threw off everything remained on his body and grabbed the red-and-blue suit. He rolled on top of it, immediately let out a loud moan. By this time he had completely forgotten the film. The unique smell of the material and high-tech units internally installed in the suit made him realize that he was really doing something improper and over the edge. Yet now he was naked and curled up like a little bonfire on the spread  suit, about to be quenched by his own sweat. He hided his cock in his hands, his hands in his thighs, his red eyes and cheeks under his wet hair. The lasting moan he made when he came sounded like a desperate cry.

He lay on his suit for a moment, until the noise in his headphones gradually drown out his own breathing. He propped himself up and took a nervous peek. His cum landed at the waist of the suit. It was white against blue, actually not unsightly. He played it with his finger, tempted to taste it, but eventually decided not to (he thought he was fifteen now, not a curious little boy who masturbated for the first time) .

The wounds from today’s battle still hurt, but at this moment it became the pain of a good kind. He just lay there, watching the 90-degree rotated sight of a girl giving a blow job with smile, all wet and happy. Peter pursed, secretly envying her. But Peter thought that if he was sucking a man’s cock, he wished he wasn't smiling, but was drooling and crying.

He touched himself for a moment, slowly set himself on fire again. The noise in his headphones became too loud now, so he pulled them out, rolled over and put his once again hard cock against one of the blue legs of his suit. He moved back and forth, as if he was rubbing himself shamelessly on someone's leg. He reached out both hands behind (even so he was perfectly balanced) and kneaded himself with such force that it was almost punishment. Fuck yes...he was so getting punishment for this. He touched the entrance a few times, but he wasn't ready to put anything in yet, so this would

be enough for now. All he needed was tilting his head a little to see the big white eyes, silent as ever, only quivering slightly with his movements, making Peter feel he was both violating and begging.

_ Oh God...I am so naughty. _

_ Spider-Man is a bad boy. _

He rolled over again, almost jumping with excitement, making the bed creak. He covered himself with his suit and closed his eyes completely. He knew that the cum from last time was on his waist now, and the filthy feeling made him happy as hell. He wrapped his cock with different parts of thr suit and stroked it vigorously. The red velvety texture made him warm, the blue grainy areas brought more pleasure, the black leather was rough, but oh dear did he love it. He licked the suit's shoes until drool dripped on the sheets like a submissive boy he would ever be. He came hard in the middle of those white eyes, then panted fiercely and forced the shaft and head trying to squeeze something more out of him.

Dazed, he shivered, his slippery hands reaching for his mask. He put the mask on. White eyes, sensing his, immediately came to life with a few tiny blinks. He turned to see his reflection among the night sky and city lights in the window glass, white cum hanging between Spider-Man's eyes. He glanced sideways, fascinated and terrified. The person in the glass seemed to be staring back at him.

He lay down on his back, tangled in the soft, sticky suit. The red and blue cloth wrapped around his body like a skin shed by a snake.

He fell asleep for hours and woke up in the early morning. The film, which had already ended for a long time, freezed at the last frame of black and white. He turned off the lights and TV, cleared the suit and himself in the dark. Berlin's last night came to an end with the blue sound of water in the bathroom.

When Happy brought the night up in the flower field in the Netherlands, Peter was glad that he only knew about the part of the adult film.


End file.
